On My Own
by Tajjas
Summary: Even with support from family and friends, starting out on one's own isn't the easiest thing to do.
1. Buck: The Apartment

_This story picks up about a year after _Udara Legacy_ and focuses mostly on Buck although the other major characters will appear as well. As ages were rather flexible since the _Alien Nation_ movies shot several years after the series finished, I'm summarizing what I'm using for this story—_

_All of the adults (George, Susan, Matt, Cathy, Albert, etc.) are still adults and are in the same jobs and family situations that they were in the series. Of the Francisco kids, Buck is 22 and a police officer, Emily is 16 and a junior in high school, and Vessna (is back) and is 5. Albert and May have a child a few months shy of a year old; as of yet he/she/it hasn't put in an appearance in the story so no name. Minor characters from the series will put in appearances as I need them, and if there's a character here that _wasn't_ in the series, I've probably invented them._

_--For those of you who are following _River of Dreams_, it hasn't been abandoned or anything like that. I found that having two primary in-progress stories worked pretty well, especially when I wanted to try a new technique, so I'm thinking about making this my new one now that _Children of Man_ is done._

* * * * *

Buck looked around the apartment and tried not to sigh. It wasn't any _worse_ than any of the dozen other apartments he'd looked at today, but it wasn't really any better, either. He knew what his parents would say—were _going_ to say—when he told them he was looking for a place of his own: he had a perfectly good room at home, and why would he want to go somewhere where he had to pay for his own utilities and food and everything else? They both seemed to miss the fact that he was twenty-two years old, with a steady job that he'd held for over six months, and it was past time that he had some independence. He surveyed the room again and tried not to shake his head. Unfortunately said steady job wasn't exactly the best-_paying_ in the world, especially since he was only a rookie on the force, which kind of limited his options.

"Well?" Eric prompted. Buck had met the landlord through one of the dispatchers at the station; he was Michelle's uncle, or something like that, he thought. Human, quite a bit older…so far he seemed like a decent guy, if a bit harried. And at least he hadn't lied and claimed that the apartment was in 'like new' condition like one of the other landlords he talked to had. _That_ place hadn't been in 'like new' condition since the fifties. If then.

He took another look around, trying to imagine the place with some area rugs and some art on the walls. He could probably make it work. This _neighborhood_ was marginally better than most of the rest he'd looked in, at least, although he could already hear his parents fussing about it the first time they came over. He pushed that thought firmly out of his mind. He was an adult; this was his decision. So the neighborhood was tolerable, and if the apartment wasn't in the _best_ shape, that had been true of just about everything he'd looked at. Here he had a little more square footage without a major difference in rent. And being on the ground floor wasn't so awful, especially considering what he could see of the staircase.

"I've got plans to renovate the whole building in the next few years," Eric continued when he didn't respond immediately. "At the moment work is being done on one of the other apartments, but if you're interested, you could take this one now with the option to move when it's finished." He shrugged slightly. "This one will be renovated too, but probably not until sometime next year."

Buck paused a moment and then nodded. "You said you'd need a security deposit and the first month's rent?" Not that he was sure what the point of a security deposit was, given that most of the walls were already banged up, the linoleum on the floors was torn and stained, and so forth, but….

"That's right. Do you know when you'd like to move in?"

He sighed again, audibly this time. Telling his parents probably wasn't going to be a pleasant experience, but it would be better just to get it over with. "It's Tuesday now…could I pick up the keys Friday afternoon?" He wasn't working this weekend, so he'd be able to get his clothes and things moved from the house, maybe pick up a few more pieces of furniture….

He took another quick look around, making a mental note of things he might want to purchase. The appliances and major pieces of furniture—a table and chairs and a pull-out couch for the combined living and kitchen area, as well as a bed and dresser for the single bedroom—were already here, but a couple more chairs would be nice. That, and new _covers_ for all the upholstered furniture, because it was all in approximately the same state as the rest of the apartment. No mold—he'd have smelled that—but it had probably gone out of date twenty years before they'd crashed on this planet. If Eric hadn't demonstrated that all of the appliances worked, he probably wouldn't have believed it. After that…well, he'd have to pick up food, obviously, he'd get books and radio from the house but maybe he could find a cheap television if somewhere—

"Friday's fine," Eric said, interrupting his thoughts. "You can drop off a check when you pick up the keys and sign all the paperwork then."

Buck nodded, offering a hand. "That'll be great. Thanks a lot."

"No problem. If you have any trouble with the apartment, the super lives in Apartment One, right next door. That's also where the first renovation is being done, so if you'd like to take a look at what the plans are for this one, go ahead and drop by."

"I will, thanks." That might at least _help_ appease his parents.

* * * * *

"You're late, and the sarge is pissed," Cliff greeted with a grin.

Buck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's new." The bus between the apartment and the station had been running late—not exactly unusual—but the sarge would have been pissed even if he'd been here fifteen minutes early. It seemed to be his permanent state of being. "Any word from above?" According to rumor, all rookie pairs that had been formed while the department was shorthanded were slowly being broken up and paired with more 'experienced' officers, with the idea that they'd stay in the new partnerships for at least two years while _they_ gained experience. Thinking about it, it made some sense, but Buck could help but hope that if the rumor was true they'd keep overlooking him and Cliff. Sure, the guy could be a pain in the ass on occasion, but he was also rapidly becoming one of Buck's best friends. And Buck would be the first to admit that he wasn't usually one to make friends quickly.

"Haven't heard anything yet." Cliff tucked his gun into its holster and stood up, grabbing his keys off the desk. "So how goes the apartment hunt?"

"Well, I've got a place. I'm supposed to move in this weekend...figure that gives me a couple days to work on breaking the news to my parents."

"Have fun with that." Cliff climbed in on the driver's side, waiting until Buck buckled himself in before starting the car. "When I told my dad _I_ was moving out, I got like a three hour lecture on how in _traditional_ Tenctonese society, children remained with their parents until they were ready to marry. And then they often moved in with the male's family until their first child was born." He shook his head. "I mean, I do understand that it's important to know our traditions, but I'm not going to live my life ruled by how people were living on a different planet a hundred years ago."

Buck shrugged. He was pretty sure his parents wouldn't play the 'tradition' card—he was typically the most observant in the family, and even he thought that remaining at home until he decided to get married was kind of ridiculous—but when it came to keeping he and Emily and Vessna close, it was hard to say.

"When are you going to tell them?"

"I'll probably bring it up tonight. That way they'll have a couple days to get used to it before I actually leave." Not that he thought that he'd get a moment's peace _in_ those couple days, but he couldn't just leave one day and not come back.

"So where's your apartment?"

"Fifth and Lex. Closer to the station, at least."

"And it's not the _worst_ neighborhood."

"Yeah, thanks, that's helpful. The neighborhood is something I'm just not going to bring up when I talk about the place. And I'll try and keep them away from it for at least a couple days while I get it fixed up a little. Which reminds me—do you have some time this weekend to help me get my stuff in?"

"Always thrilled to help move heavy objects."

* * * * *

_If you have a minute to click the review button and let me know what you think, it would be appreciated._


	2. Susan: Shock

_Recognizable characters probably aren't mine._

* * * * *

Susan checked the clock and sighed. Too late to make it to Vessna's open house, but at least she'd be home before her baby was in bed. She navigated through the traffic—not so heavy at this time of night, at least—almost automatically. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the confidence that the senior partners at the ad agency had in her, but an international project of this size required so much of her time outside normal working hours…. She sighed again. George had spent almost a year on the night shift when Emily had been Vessna's age, and she remembered how he'd worried that he was missing her childhood. Now she was starting to feel the same way.

George's car wasn't in the driveway when she got home, but he and Vessna might have stopped somewhere for a snack. "Hello, Em," she greeted her oldest daughter as she walked in the door. Emily grunted something from her reclining position on the couch, her nose buried in a book, that might have been a greeting, and Susan shook her head. Buck was the more studious one, but when Emily focused on something, she _focused_. "Is you brother home yet?"

One shoulder twitched. "Got in ten or twenty minutes ago. He's taking a shower."

"Ah." Susan couldn't hear the water running, but—

"Hey, Mom," Buck greeted, coming down the stairs to join her.

He was in the shorts and t-shirt he preferred to sleep in rather than his uniform, and Susan couldn't help but be a little grateful. Six months after his graduation from the police academy she'd finally become at least _accustomed_ to seeing him dressed as a police officer, but she still couldn't bring herself to _like_ it. She knew as well as anyone what this city could be like. He knuckled her temple lightly, and she returned the gesture and smiled. "Hello. Emily said you just got in. Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, but I was going to go make myself a plate. Do you want me to make you one too?"

"That would be wonderful. I'm just going to go get changed."

She heard him asking Emily if she wanted something to eat too, but when she came back down Emily hadn't moved from her position on the couch so apparently she hadn't been interested. Buck was in the kitchen at the table, two plates set out, and for a moment she thought she saw something slightly…awkward…in his expression. It disappeared as soon as he saw her, though, and with a shake of her head she decided to blame the impression on her own exhaustion.

"So, how was your meeting?" he asked, starting in on the weasel chunks.

"About like usual. A lot of arguing and then re-agreeing to everything they already agreed to last week." There were times when she thought that each client should get a limited number of words per subject, and after that they weren't allowed to talk any more. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good. I, um…." The awkwardness returned to his expression, and this time she knew that she wasn't imagining it. "You know, I was thinking, it's not really convenient to take the bus down to the station every day and then either taking it back or having Cliff drop me off in the evenings. I mean, it's out of his way, and the bus wastes a lot of time."

Susan nodded, unable to deny it. For awhile she and George had shared one car between them, with the one who didn't have the car on a given day taking the bus, but shortly after she'd accepted her job at the ad agency they'd had to give in and buy a second vehicle. "You're thinking about getting your own car, then?" It was probably a good idea, although who knew where they were going to put it. They already had hers and George's, and the garage was so full of junk there was no way they could fit a car in there…well, they'd figure something out. The initial expense might be difficult for him to handle though; maybe that's why he'd been so hesitant to bring it up.

He shook his head. "Not exactly. I mean, half the problem is the traffic, and having my own car won't fix that."

He'd been assigned to a precinct on almost the opposite side of the city, and she nodded in understanding. "Do you think you could transfer to another precinct?" She knew _she'd_ feel better if he was closer to George, although she wasn't about to bring it up.

"Probably not. Actually, um, I was thinking about maybe getting an apartment closer to the station."

He blurted the last out so fast that it took her a moment to process the words, and then her hearts seemed to stop for a moment. "You're leaving?"

"It's not—I'm not _leaving_. I mean, I'll still be in the city, and I'll still probably be home most nights for dinner, but it just seems like it would be more convenient if I actually lived closer to the station."

"_Convenient?_" She heard her voice rise sharply, and a part of her knew that she was overreacting to what really shouldn't be a major event, but she couldn't help it. They'd lost him once, on the ship, and it had been a miracle that they'd gotten him back again. She hadn't even _been there_ the day they'd taken him away; she'd simply come back from a work shift to find George clinging to Emily and absolutely inconsolable, her ten year old son nowhere to be found. And even if this was a completely different situation, even if he was still in the city, he wouldn't be _here_. Here where she could check on him, make sure that he was safe, on the nights when the nightmares still came.

A squeal jolted her out of her train of thought, and Vessna flung herself across the kitchen into her brother's lap. Buck scooped her up, obviously glad of the distraction.

"Hello, Neemu," George greeted, coming in behind Vessna.

She didn't respond—she couldn't respond—and he touched her temples lightly.

"Suse? What's wrong?"

"Your son wants to move out."

"What?" George looked at her for a moment, and then lifted his head to stare at Buck. "You're leaving?"

"I'm not _leaving_," Buck repeated. "It's just—I found an apartment closer to the station. It's not like I'll never be home or anything like that, I just think it'll be easier than fighting the traffic and everything every day. Plus, with me gone, you can move Vessna up into my room and actually have a spare room for all your stuff again, instead of letting it all pile up in the garage."

"You already _found_ an apartment?" Susan demanded. Bad enough thinking about the idea in the abstract, but if he already _had_ a place….

"I'm supposed to pick up the keys this weekend," he admitted after a minute. "It's like twenty minutes away; it's really not a big deal."

"You're leaving?" Vessna asked, obviously picking up on the important part of the conversation. "But I don't want you to leave."

"What's going on?" Emily asked, joining the rest of them in the kitchen. "Is Buck going somewhere?"

"I found an apartment closer to the station."

"Oh. Is that all?"

_All?_ Well, Emily had grown up on this world and probably didn't even remember being split up on the ship; there was no way she could understand how this felt to her parents. Or to her mother, at least…George's face was blank, and it was hard to tell what he was thinking. "But what will you eat?" she couldn't help asking. "What about utilities? And laundry?"

"I can cook," Buck pointed out. "And the apartment has water and electric. And I'll take my clothes to a Laundromat, like everyone else in the city without a washing machine does."

Perfectly reasonable answers, but she shook her head anyway.

"Well, how much _are_ utilities?" George asked, and she couldn't help but be grateful for the support. "It could be expensive, you know. Are you near a bus stop?"

"There's one about two blocks away, and utilities are included in the rent."

"What about furniture?" Emily asked. "I am _not_ helping you haul your bed down out of your room. Do you remember how much work it was to get it up there? And that was with the guys from the moving company helping us."

"The big furniture is included, the only thing I really need are a few more chairs and some pillows and stuff." He sighed. "Look, like I said, I'm supposed to pick up the keys this weekend. I'll take you all over and you can see it then, all right? Maybe Sunday?"

Susan shook her head, pushing her chair back from the table. She'd barely touched the plate that Buck had made for her, but the way she felt right now there was no way she'd be able to manage even a single bite more. She needed to…_process_…as Elena always said. "I'm going to take a shower. Excuse me."


	3. Sal: Broken

_Warning for language (Sal is a little less polite than either Buck or his mother is). If you like the story and have the time, please review.  
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* * * * *

Sal: Broken

Broken. Broken, broken, broken. Everything in this damn building was _broken_. Just _once_ she'd like to get a call where the problem was that the tenant had forgotten to plug something in. What in the _hell_ had she been thinking when she'd agreed to be the super here? She swiped at her forehead, tucking back the wisps of hair that had escaped her bandana, and sighed. Well, actually she'd been thinking that she'd needed money and a place to sleep that wasn't a shelter, and Eric was a decent enough guy as far as landlords went, but she hadn't counted on this much work beyond the actual renovations he'd wanted done.

"Well?" the woman—Sherry?...Cherry?...that was it, Cherry Pitts, courtesy of some jackass at Immigration—prompted. "Can you fix it?"

"I can, but I'm going to have to swing by the hardware store and pick some caulk first. I know you said you had to work this afternoon…if you'd rather I wait until you're here until I do the work, I can do it tomorrow morning. Otherwise I should have it done before you get off shift." Technically it said in all the tenants' leases that the super had the right to enter their apartments at any time if there was work to be done, but there was no sense kicking up bad feelings about. It wasn't as though there weren't ten other things that she could do before she had to go into the shop.

"Do it whenever you can; I just want it done. I can barely sleep for hearing the traffic out there."

Privately Sal doubted that fixing the window casing—which was a mess—would really do that much for the noise, but she nodded sympathetically. "All right, then, I'll get right on it."

"Thanks."

"No problem." She took the stairs quickly, headed for her bike, and then doubled back to her apartment. As long as she was going to the hardware store, she might as well pick up the remaining things she needed to get the kitchen cabinets in her apartment re-hung. That was the other good thing about working for Eric; he'd known when he bought it what a mess this building was and wasn't being idiotic about the renovation budget. It was small—it had to be, given the neighborhood—but not totally unreasonable. For the most part.

It didn't actually take long to re-caulk the window, and patch a few cracks in Cherry's walls besides, but by the time she finished she had to hurry to be at the shop on time. Dade had been a little pissed at how she'd taken off before without any word, but she was damn good at engine work and he knew it so he'd been willing to let her come back. It had been a harder fight to keep it under thirty hours a week, just so she could keep her deal with Eric and keep renovating that damn apartment building at the same time.

She snorted to herself. Then again, a good part of that might have been play-acting for salary negotiation—she got as much done working part time after hours as she would working full time during the day if she had to deal with customers. And this way the chances of her offending any customers the way she had when she'd worked here back in high school were much, much lower.

The alley behind the shop was barely big enough for passage, but she took it out of habit, kicking a scrap of metal ahead of her. Of course part-time meant no insurance, which was probably not smart considering the kind of shit she was dealing with on a daily basis, but there was no way in hell she could hold down two full time jobs. Besides which, she was practically a walking preexisting condition anyway. Maybe when the renovations were done and the building _wasn't_ a full time job anymore she'd see what was available, but…. "Yeah, that'll be the day," she muttered. "When I'm about _fifty_."

"Hey," Luke greeted as she walked in. "What happened to you?"

Like she was going to waste time showering to get the drywall dust off when she was going to end up covered in grease anyway. She rolled her eyes. "Drywall. What's your excuse?"

"You're funny, really. Take the 'vette."

* * * * *

Eric was waiting for her in the hallway outside her apartment when she finally got off work, and she grinned and raised a hand in greeting. "Hey, what's up? Come to complain about the credit card bill? Or is something broken in your apartment too?" He didn't live in this building, but there had already been 'a couple things' that he'd asked her to take a look at.

"Nothing like that. Not today, anyway. Just wanted to let you know that you're going to be getting a new neighbor Friday." He indicated the currently-empty apartment next to the one she was currently renovating.

"Huh." It was a single-bedroom, damn near the mirror of hers from what she remembered. She hadn't been in the place since she'd done a quick survey of the building, mostly because there hadn't been anyone living there to complain about what was wrong with it.

"He's a cop, so whichever of your supplies are stolen, keep them out of sight, all right?"

"No faith. No faith at all." Some of her tools had been acquired through methods that the _IRS_ probably wouldn't approve of, but she wasn't sloppy enough to actually steal anything outright. "Is he the party sort?" She hoped not…she didn't get much sleep as it was, and a noisy neighbor wouldn't help. Pissing off the building's super would be a pretty dumb thing for a new tenant to do, but God knew there were plenty of dumb people out there.

"Nah, don't think so. He's a young guy—probably about your age—but he seemed pretty serious."

"That's something, I guess. There anything he's going to need right off?"

Eric shrugged. "All the lights and faucets worked when I gave him a tour of the place, but beyond that I don't know. Didn't you make notes on all the apartments when you first moved in?"

"Yeah, guess I should go dig those up." With her luck, half the outlets were dead and there was a rat colony living behind the shower. "You said Friday?"

"That's when he's picking up the keys."

"I'll see what I can get done beforehand."

"Thanks. And let me know before you order the new flooring for your place so I'm ready for the bill."

"Sure, but it'll be a couple weeks. I've still got kitchen cabinets to shim into place, plumbing to move in the bathroom, and all the painting to do. Which reminds me, did you want to pick paint colors, or should I just pick something?"

"Pick something," he said with a shrug. "Uh—something neutral, please."

"No worries." She might like bright colors, but neon green _walls_ would bother even her. "Can generally find some version of tan or cream on sale."

He nodded. "Thanks, Sal. Let me know if you need anything else."

She nodded, keeping her comment 'two more hands and an extra four hours a day, to herself, and headed into her apartment. "List, list, where the hell did I put that list?" The tape player was on the kitchen counter—or at least on the board that would be replaced with a kitchen counter at some point in the future—and the mini recorder was in her pocket, but where she'd put her box of tapes…. "Ah."

The tape crackled ominously as she fast-forwarded through a recitation of things to do for several other apartments, and she made a mental note to pick up a new pack of cassettes the next time they were on sale. Well, or spend real money to invest in new technology, but the way her budget looked, _that_ wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

"—ne B," she heard her own voice say the next time she stopped the tape, and she did a quick rewind and started it again. "-next stop, apartment One B. Which apparently needs a new lock. Is there _any_ apartment in this building that isn't a piece of crap?"

She'd replaced the lock—actually all the apartment locks—immediately after moving in, so she ignored that note. And the fairly rhetorical question.

"Huh. Better shape than most of them, I guess," the voice on the tape continued, obviously stepping into the apartment. "Most of the stuffing is still _in_ the furniture, anyway. Need to replace the flooring and patch the walls, same as everywhere else. Oh, big hole by the electrical panel that needs to be taken care of. Can just see some idiot sticking his hand in and electrocuting himself."

"Hole by the electrical panel," Sal said into the smaller tape recorder.

"Faucets look all right—well, actually they look like crap, but at least they _work_—hot water's okay, cold water's okay, decent water pressure. Need to pin down the linoleum between the hall in the bedroom before someone trips."

"Linoleum," she said into the tape recorder.

"Windows are in pretty good shape, actually—course the bars on the outside probably helped with that. Safety releases w—ow! Safety releases are rusty, and it's a good thing I just had a tetanus shot, but they seem to work."

"Clean or replace the safety releases on the windows," Sal noted. Just to be safe. She hadn't asked whether the new tenant was human or Newcomer…the worst a Newcomer would get was a scratched hand, but a human could end up in the hospital if he wasn't up-to-date on his shots.

There wasn't much else on the tape…only two dead outlets and no rat colony, which despite the amount of work she'd done to kill the things off without poisoning anyone else in the building, she'd more than half expected. There were a couple comments on the tape about fixing up the kitchen cabinets, but that was about on par with the paint and the linoleum. _All_ of the apartments needed that. So hopefully she could get the repairs that needed doing done tomorrow morning.

"And then wait for the complaints to start once the guy moves in," she muttered, and then shut the tape player and recorder off and headed for the shower. If she hurried, she could probably get the windows here re-caulked as well before she fell asleep.


	4. Cliff: An Incident

_Thanks to everyone who is reading…if you have a moment, click the review button and tell me what you think._

* * * * *

Cliff: An Incident

"Hey, Buck, do you have a screwdriver?" The screws to hold the shelves in place had been very carefully taped to the inside of the bookcase frame, but he'd looked through just about every box they'd hauled over from Buck's parents' place, and he still couldn't find any tools to actually _do_ the assembly.

"Um…somewhere, I think."

Most of Buck's attention was focused on the couch cover as he tried to figure out how it was supposed to go on, and Cliff did a quick glance around the room. A dozen or so boxes that he'd already looked through, some fairly dilapidated furniture that had been here when they'd arrived….

"Didn't you say the super lived next door?" Shelly asked, looking up from the box of food she putting away in the cabinets. "Maybe he has one you can borrow. Uh, Buck, I think you're doing that backwards. Look, the seams are showing."

Cliff nodded, although neither was looking at him, and headed back into the hall. There were two doors, one next to Buck's and one on the other side of the hall. He shrugged and knocked on the one next to Buck's.

"Just a minute!" a woman called, followed by the sound of something heavy moving, and then the door finally opened. "Sorry about that. Can I help you with something?"

He stared for a moment at the scar creasing the right side of her face from temple to chin and then realized what he was doing and shook himself. "Uh, sorry. I was looking for the building superintendent?"

"You're looking at her. What can I do for—" her eyes caught the badge clipped to his belt, and she smiled. "Oh, you must be my new neighbor. Eric said you picked up the keys yesterday. I'm Sal. It's nice to meet you."

"Cliff," he returned, shaking her hand automatically. "And actually my partner is your new neighbor; I'm just helping him move in. We're trying to put some bookshelves together, but I'm not sure which box the screwdriver ended up in. Or _if_ it's even in one, for that matter. I was kind of hoping that you might have one that I could borrow."

She grinned. "Yeah, sure, I know how the whole moving thing tends to go. What kind do you need?"

"Phillips head. Uh…medium-sized, I guess."

"Just a sec." She disappeared inside, only to return a minute later. "Here. Multiple heads, just twist open the handle and pick out which one you want. They're magnetic so once they're in the slot they'll hold until you pull them out." She glanced back into the apartment again. "I'd offer to help, but I've really got to get to work. Just tell your partner to return it when he's done." She grinned again and then shrugged slightly. "Figure I can probably trust a couple cops not to steal my stuff."

Cliff smiled as well, taking the screwdriver. "Yeah, that's a fair assumption. Thanks."

"No problem." She didn't even go back into the apartment, pulling the door shut behind her and locking it before tucking the key into her pocket and hurrying off down the hall.

"You find him?" Shelly asked when he came back in. She was still stocking the cabinets, but Buck had apparently figured out the couch cover and had moved on to re-covering the chairs he'd picked up at some yard sale.

"Her, actually. Human, pretty young to be a super, but she seemed nice enough." At least she didn't seem to have a problem with him being Tenctonese, even when she'd thought he was her neighbor. Things weren't _as _bad as they'd been a few years ago, but there was still plenty of prejudice to go around. He held up the screwdriver. "You're supposed to return it when we're done with it."

"Hm?" Buck glanced up with a frown and then nodded quickly. "Oh, yeah, sure."

"That's different," Shelly said, dismantling the box the food had been in and standing up. "You don't see too many female superintendents."

He shrugged. "She had a screwdriver, at least. Although I guess she works somewhere else too—said she was in a hurry."

"Maybe that's why this place is such a mess." Buck tugged the last chair cover into place and then surveyed the room. "Mom and Dad want to come by tomorrow…I want it to look decent, but I'm not sure what else to do."

"A coat of paint and a new floor would be nice," Shelly said. "Barring that…I don't know. Try and hang your artwork so it covers the really _big_ cracks."

Cliff snorted, looking around the room. "I don't think you have enough artwork." The furniture covers had been a good start, but in a way they almost accentuated the rest of the things that still needed to be done. Granted that most of the major work was cosmetic—no mold, no apparent infestations, and the building's collapse didn't seem eminent—but there was enough of it to take a normal person a year to complete.

"You're hilarious, both of you. Cliff, try putting those bookshelves over here. That'll hide the linoleum, or lack thereof, _and_ the wall." He looked at the counter top—stained and burned in several places—and shook his head. "I know I grabbed a couple decorative plates from that estate sale…think I wrapped them in the area rugs."

Buck _would_ think of decorative plates, Cliff decided with a shake of his head, hauling the bookshelf to where his partner had indicated. They were a pretty good team, but he tended to be more impulsive whereas Buck would plan out everything to be done a week and a half in advance if he could. Cliff was a little surprised that he had moved on an apartment as fast as he had, actually…he'd expected the guy to be making lists for a month before he got around to moving out of his parents' place.

"All units in the vicinity of Twelfth and Roberts, requesting backup for a possible robbery at a convenience store," the radio on Shelly's belt squawked suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Two-seven-Thomas-two-five responding," she said immediately as the radio went silent, echoed by several other familiar radio signatures.

Cliff glanced at Buck, who nodded quickly. They were off today, technically, but if Shelly was rolling, especially without a partner, they were too.

Both patrol cars were parked just down the block, and the three of them arrived at the scene at the same time another patrol car did. They were waved off almost immediately for crowd-control duty—rookies usually were—and there was the usual hassle with pushing people back as they tried for the best view of what was going on. He still didn't understand why; if someone had a gun and it _wasn't_ his job to keep people from getting hurt, he'd damn well have the sense to stay away. But they obviously didn't, and—"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you need to stay back right now," he said firmly, planting himself in front of a woman who'd just ducked under the police tape.

"But I'm late picking my son up from the babysitter, and I need a jug of milk."

"I'm sorry, but you'll need to pick that up somewhere else." People worried him, sometimes.

* * * * *

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

"In here!" Mona called cheerfully from the kitchen. "Did you get Buck all moved in? I stopped by the apartment after work, but no one was there."

He joined her, knuckling temple lightly. "Mostly. He's still got a few boxes to unpack and some decorating to do." Or at least some creative hiding of flaws. "There was an…incident…and we had to spend a good portion of the afternoon filling out paperwork." He hated officer-involved shootings. Hastings hadn't had a choice, not when the would-be robber had threatened to shoot the three people who'd been trapped in the convenience store when he'd tried robbing it, but they were still hard on everybody.

Mona leaned back against him lightly but didn't ask any questions. They'd been seriously dating for about a year, and she knew well enough by now that she didn't _want_ to know the details. Any more than he wanted to tell her.


	5. Buck: Long Time

_Thanks to everyone who is reading. If you have a moment, click the review button and tell me what you think._

* * * * *

Buck: Long Time

"Well, this is it."

Emily was the first in, wrinkling her nose at the linoleum on the floor. "Haven't they ever heard of carpet?"

"This was probably easier to clean." Mom didn't sound particularly thrilled about that fact, but at least she wasn't lifting any of the area rugs he'd put down to look under them as she prowled around the place.

"Are you certain that this building is structurally sound?" Dad asked, poking at one of the cracks in the wall that he hadn't quite had enough posters or artwork to cover.

"It's from settling. The landlord said the whole building is scheduled to be renovated, but this apartment isn't one of the first ones on the list. The one next door is, though…if I want to move into that when it's done, I have the option."

"Hm." His mother did lift one of the decorative plates he'd put down on the counter, frowning at the burn spots underneath. "That doesn't seem very safe."

"Whoever lived here before probably set a pan down without putting a potholder down first. Eric demoed all of the appliances when I was looking at the place, and they were all working fine."

"You're hardly a mechanic," his father pointed out.

Buck forced himself not to roll his eyes. He wasn't a mechanic, true enough, but he could see flames and smell smoke as easily as anyone else. "The super lives right next door. I'm sure if I have any problems he'll—she'll—" he amended, remembering what Cliff had said—"be happy to help."

"Considering the job that's been done keeping up the rest of this place, I wouldn't be so sure."

He glared at Emily. She was the only one in the family who didn't seem to be overreacting to his impending move, and he needed a little backup on this. Not that she was entirely happy that he was moving out, but at least it wasn't a total freak out like his parents and Vessna were having either. Of course, Vessna was only six, and to be fair across the city probably _did_ feel like across the world to her, but he'd thought his parents would have come to terms with things a little better by now.

He shook his head. At first it had seemed like Dad had been okay with it, but now every time Buck turned around he was coming up with one more little thing that could go wrong, and 'shouldn't you think about this a little more?' He'd given up pointing out that he _had_ thought about it and was just ignoring the whole mess. Of course, then Mom looked at him and sighed, which was harder to ignore.

* * * * *

Buck looked around the apartment and shook his head. It had the official parental stamp of approval now—albeit not without considerable reservations, and he had a mental list of things he wanted to do before the next time they saw this place—but he couldn't help but feel a little guilty about it. Mom and Dad just looked so _miserable_…he knew he was doing the right thing, but he still hated upsetting them. With a sigh, he grabbed the screwdriver off the countertop and headed for the door. He'd forgotten to return it before he caught the bus yesterday, and it would probably be a bad idea to irritate the super when he already knew he was going to have to ask for things to be done.

If he concentrated, he could hear some sort of power tool running next door, so she must be around…. He knocked on the door, and then knocked again, harder, when there was no immediate response. Cliff had said that she was human. The sound of the power tool ceased, and a moment later the door opened to reveal a human woman about his age.

"Hello, can I h—" She broke off, frowning. "_Buck?_"

Buck stared at the woman in front of him. For a moment he didn't recognize her—he didn't spend a lot of time around human females, and none of the ones he did spend time with had scars down the sides of their faces—but when he looked past the scar to the sharp features…. "_Sal?_" It was hard to tell under the layer of dust, and most of her hair was tied back under a bandana, but the too-pale blue eyes matched what he remembered.

"Hey," she said with a laugh he would have recognized even without the visual clues. "Seriously long time no see."

He shook his head, trying to process. They'd been friends, of a sort, back in high school, but it had been more a case of outcasts sticking together than anything in particular they had in common. They'd eaten lunch together fairly often, since she never seemed to mind the things he'd brought, but he'd talked about literature and politics and current events while she'd talked about engines and cars and construction projects. When he'd finally started making friends among the other students in his advanced classes, they'd stopped spending as much time together.

He'd never been sure what had happened to her…her disappearance had coincided with Mom and Emily ending up in the hospital, and he hadn't even noticed at first. That had been partly because they had stopped eating lunch together all the time—and she'd always been an indifferent student so there was never a guarantee that she'd show up on any given day, anyway—but it was also partly because he hadn't really wanted anything to do with _any_ Terts just then. It hadn't been until a few weeks later, after Mom and Em had recovered, that he realized that he hadn't seen her for quite awhile. And since he hadn't even known where she lived, he hadn't had any idea where to start looking. "Hey," he finally managed. "I—_you're_ the super here?"

"For my sins." She nodded at the screwdriver he held. "So are you my new neighbor, or are you just helping this phantom person move in?"

"Neighbor," he said, offering it. "Thanks."

She took it and tucked it into her tool belt. "No problem; I know how the moving thing goes. I'd have offered to help, but I was already running late."

"Yeah, that's what Cliff said."

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. "So you're a cop, huh? That would _not_ have been my first thought."

"Wasn't really mine, either." His mind ran through the collection of the classes at the community college, lessons at the temple, and a dozen other things he'd tried before it finally occurred to him to try the academy before he shrugged. "It just sort of worked."

"As long as you're happy, I guess."

"What happened to you? Back in high school, I mean. If you don't mind. You just sort of disappeared."

Her face darkened slightly. "Yeah. Dad and I really got into it one night and…I don't know. I just couldn't take it any more. Packed my backpack, grabbed my bike, and left."

"Where'd you go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere. Name a major city in the US—and a couple in Canada and Mexico—and I've probably been there. Was never any good at the school shit, but there's damn near nothing mechanical I can't figure out, so I'd get somewhere, find work for a month or two, and then move on again. Ended up back here a few months ago and heard about Eric buying this place and looking for someone to fix it up, so…here I am." She shrugged. "Aside from the sheer amount of _stuff_ to do, it's working out pretty well."

"Hey, Sal?" a human boy, probably ten or twelve, stuck his head over the railing. "Mama said to tell you the bathroom sink is leaking again!"

"Speaking of," she muttered, and then lifted her head. "I'll be there in a minute, Danny." She turned back to Buck. "I better go deal with that before it does any more damage to the cabinet, but if you need anything—or if anything blows up—let me know. I've got everything critical taken care of at this point, so I can probably get to it in a reasonable amount of time."

"Thanks."

He shook his head, turning back for his own apartment as she pulled her door shut and locked it behind her. Of all the people to run into.


End file.
